7. Ari
Would they show up in pictures if I slipped a bottle of Pepto-Bismol into each of my front pockets? What if I tucked them in my suit jacket later?
Maybe Connor and Pepper did things the right way. Perhaps I should have suggested to Olivia that we elope. It would have meant avoiding a shit ton of last-minute plan changes, conflicts with the vendors, and miscommunications.
“You okay there, buddy?” It was Barrett’s idea that we spend a couple of hours fishing the morning of the wedding. It was an excuse to get away from the estate for a little while and clear my head when there had been nothing but to-do lists running through it for weeks. I thought the bride was supposed to be the one handling all that shit, but it turned out that even with the help of the bride and a pair of highly respected planners, there were still endless questions to be answered and plans to be approved.
“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” Connor was enjoying himself way more than he should, leaning back in his chair with his fishing pole in one hand.
None of us had gotten so much as a nibble in the hour since we’d come out, but catching a big one wasn’t the point. And I got the feeling that if I came home covered in fish stench, Olivia’s head would explode. If not hers, then one of the planners.
“About Olivia? Fuck no.” I didn’t have to think about it, not about her. Sure, it wasn’t love at first sight, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t just as real. If anything, what we had was stronger. We had started out at each other’s throats and ended up ready to build a life together. That meant overcoming all the shit that had tried to keep us apart and building a strong foundation from which everything else would grow.
“You’re not doing your own vows or anything, are you?” Magnus reeled in his line a bit before cracking open a beer. “That’s one thing I regret. Having to come up with my vows.”
“You didn’t do too bad,” I offered, thinking back. “I mean, it was short, but you got the point across.”
“Oh, there’s a ringing endorsement,” Barrett muttered, snorting. “Short, sweet, got the point across.”
Once he finished laughing, Magnus shrugged. “You know, I don’t remember a damn thing about it. And I don’t mean because some time has passed. By the end of the ceremony, I couldn’t remember a word I said. I was in a trance or some shit.”
“That’s something Lourde told me after our reception,” Barrett mused, staring out over the water. I couldn’t read his face, thanks to his sunglasses, but he sounded thoughtful. “As soon as it was over, she wondered where the day went. Everything goes by so fast.”
I could only snicker to myself because I wished I had that problem. I wanted it to be over if only to be on the other side of my anxiety. “I want it to be perfect for her,” I confess. “I know it sounds corny and pathetic, but that’s why I’m all full of nerves today. When she looks back on this in fifteen or twenty years, I don’t want there to be a single thing she regrets or wishes we had done differently.”
For a while, the only sound came from water lapping against the sides of the boat and seagulls in the distance. It would’ve been a perfectly peaceful, beautiful day except for ominous clouds rolling in from the west—yet another point of concern. I had been checking the weather apps for two weeks, tracking today’s outlook. “Those clouds don’t look good,” I muttered, and the pit in my stomach grew.
“It’s been cloudy and shitty-looking on and off for days,” Connor reminded me. “And it always clears up. You’ll be fine.”
“You want to know what I think?” Barrett asked, tossing an empty beer can into the cooler. “I think if Olivia is still dwelling on your wedding twenty years from now, she’s not who I thought she was. I mean, there would be twenty years of memories between now and then, right? You have a son together. You have your careers. She won’t be obsessing over a little detail of a big day twenty years from now. She’ll be thinking back on her marriage and her family. Her life.”
It was Connor who broke the silence. “Don’t tell me that’s what you plan on using for your best man’s speech later.”
Barrett groaned. “Fuck off.” There would be no chance of catching anything with the four of us laughing as hard as we did and scaring off every fish in a hundred-yard radius, but it didn’t matter.
Though even as I laughed, I couldn’t get the thought of those clouds out of my head. It didn’t help that they kept coming closer every minute.
* * *
“They say rain is good luck on a wedding day.” Those were the first words my grandmama offered on arriving at the mansion after being escorted up the front stairs by one of the butlers hired for the day’s events.
Guests had started arriving a half hour earlier and, from the sound of it, were enjoying cocktails and hors d’oeuvres on the back terrace and the lawn leading down to the ceremony area. A stiff breeze stirred the flowers on the front patio and tore a few rose petals free to twist in the wind before blowing away.
“I’m still hoping it passes with nothing.” However, every hour that passed told me it was less and less likely. The day had gone from clear and sunny to gray, but as of thirty minutes before the ceremony, that gray was beginning to turn to a deeper shade of charcoal while thunder rumbled in the distance.
Grandmama grimaced, taking my arm and allowing me to walk her into the house. “Trust me. Once you reach my age, your joints become a better forecaster than anybody you’ll see on the Weather Channel.”
I could hear the discomfort in her voice, and it concerned me. “I’m just glad you could make it. Are you sure you’re up to?—”
She cut me off with an impervious glare, arching an eyebrow. “I can manage myself, thank you. I wouldn’t miss today for anything in the world.” She patted my cheek, smiling fondly now that her glare had softened. She had a way of swinging from one extreme to the other at times. “My grandson, taking this big step. Then again, you do already have a child together…”
She could pretend all she wanted to be faintly scandalized at Noah being born out of wedlock, but it was a different story when he came running our way through the entry hall. My heart jumped into my throat when he came dangerously close to crashing into a vase full of roses and hydrangeas, but he managed to sidestep it at the last second. “There’s my handsome little man,” she exclaimed, and I bent to pick him up so she could kiss his cheek.
“You’d better be careful,” I warned him, smoothing down his hair and straightening his bowtie. “You don’t want to ruin your suit before the wedding. You have to look nice when you bring the rings down the aisle for me and Mommy. Can you do that?”
“Can I have a cookie?” Because for a two-year-old, things really were that simple.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Grandmama winked at me, taking Noah’s hand once I set him on his feet. “We’ll find you a cookie, but you have to sit down like a good little boy and eat it rather than running around with it and getting it all over yourself. Deal?”
He nodded happily, and she led him outside to where a sweets table had been set up along with the other hors d’oeuvres. At this rate, I had to wonder if everything would be safe out there. We had an awning to protect the food from rain, but the wind was getting a little stronger every minute. I was starting to wonder if we shouldn’t rush the ceremony if only to get it over with before all hell broke loose.
The photographer found me pacing the entry hall like the worried groom I was. “We’d like to get some shots of you and the groomsmen,” she said, waving me outside while an assistant followed on her heels.
I could understand now why Lourde had said their big day had passed in a blur. That was how it felt to be pushed and pulled from one place to another. It seemed like I had been running nonstop since our return from the boat—we had already captured the groomsmen’s preparations, gotten photos with Noah, and I had gifted the guys the monogrammed flasks I’d commissioned for them. How was it the ceremony was so close already?
“How’s that stomach treating you?” Barrett asked when I reached the front lawn, where he and the rest of the guys were assembled to greet guests as they arrived.
“I pretty much chugged something to settle it,” I admitted while smiling and waving to people who looked vaguely familiar. Friends of my grandmama’s, I assumed. “This storm isn’t helping it.”
For the first time, he looked concerned as he scanned the sky. “Yeah, it’s not looking so great. Let’s hope it holds off until after the ceremony, then everyone can go to the tents.” They were sturdy enough, for sure, and large enough to fit two hundred guests for dinner and dancing. From where we stood, I could see staff members rushing around in there, putting the final touches on the décor and the place settings. “I hope like hell the clouds clear up in time for the fireworks.”
“And everything is in place for my surprise?” I asked Barrett, whose sole job that day was to track Reilly Kissinger’s arrival and handle any problems that might arise.
“Everything is on track,” he assured me. “The helicopter arrives at nine o’clock on the dot, even if the skies do open,” he continued. “Anything that blows through should be out to sea by then. I have Connor checking the weather reports too. We’ve got you covered.”
“All right, guys. Let’s get together here.” The photographer waved her hands, motioning for us to stand closer at the base of the stairs with the mansion behind us.
“Remember when we used to go to weddings and see who could be the first to screw a bridesmaid?” Magnus muttered through a smile as the photos were snapped. “Those were the days.”
“No,” I grunted, smiling for the camera. Not that I thought he truly meant it. It was more of a joke meant to ease my tension, but I felt it needed to be said. When I looked back at that version of myself and how empty his life was, I hardly recognized him. “These are the days.”
We finished, and Magnus handed me my flask, which I noticed was no longer empty when I took it from him. “Here’s my contribution to your mental well-being,” he told me with a grin, touching his flask to mine before we both took a swig.
“Shaking off those last-minute jitters?” I turned at the question, vaguely recognizing the voice. Once I identified my father standing at my mother’s side, it was no surprise that the voice was only faintly recognizable to my ears. I was more surprised they’d managed to fly in from their estate in Florence for the ceremony. As it was, they had cut it pretty close.
“Everything looks beautiful.” My mother air kissed both of my cheeks before taking my hands. She was perfectly groomed, as always. Flawless. And for once, she looked genuinely happy. “You’ve done a wonderful job planning this, and I’m sure Olivia will be a beautiful bride.”
“Here’s hoping you get through the ceremony before the clouds open,” my father joked, staring at the sky. “Even a Farrah Goldsmith original won’t hold up against a torrential downpour.”
“Why don’t I show you over to the ceremony area?” Barrett greeted them warmly before escorting them away before I could burst a blood vessel. Though I didn’t hold anything against them, and there were no hard feelings, my grandmama had been more of a parent to me than either of them could ever have hoped to be. If they hadn’t made it, I would’ve gotten over it without trying. If she had missed this, I imagined I would have felt strangely empty.
Magnus gave me a gentle shove from behind before passing me. “We should all get over there,” he pointed out, and now I noticed the wedding planners and various staff herding the guests out to the rows of white chairs arranged in front of the floral arch. Beyond it, waves crashed dramatically as the storm built.
Mother Nature had decided to RSVP.
What a shame she couldn’t have been late to the event.